


Heaven and Home

by MurielJones



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:51:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8566429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurielJones/pseuds/MurielJones
Summary: Sam and Dean's relationship gets complicated when Mary comes home, and then Mary finds out.





	

They’re alive. The biggest surprise is that she’s alive. The next biggest is that her boys are alive, especially Sam, oh god, Sam. The following biggest surprise is what she sees as Cas leads her out of that basement, giving Sam and Dean a moment alone – rather obviously (it turns out that obviousness is Cas’ m.o.) a moment alone. So Mary takes a moment to watch what an angel thinks she shouldn’t see – and she’s really not sure what she sees.

“Sammy.” Two steps, half a moment, and Dean’s arms are around Sam, filthy, defiant, bloodied, alive Sam, pulling his brother close.

Sam grabs onto his brother’s biceps, tugs Dean tighter for a hug; buries his face in Dean’s shoulder; and Dean wraps himself around Sam. “Dean.” It’s barely audible, but it’s a statement, not a question. Sam turns his face letting his cheek rub against his brother’s, nose up against Dean’s neck, taking in Dean’s scent, eyes nearly closing as the smell of leather and gun powder and hope tell him this really is Dean, his features soft and open as he realizes both he and Dean are safe; Sam nestles into Dean, oblivious of bystanders. “Is this our heaven?” His voice is choked and expectant. Sam is ok with this little hell being his and Dean’s heaven; their shared heaven.

Mary notices too many things all at once, that Dean and Sam haven’t taken their eyes off each other; that their embrace is too long for a greeting between brothers, even brothers who thought they had lost each other; their touch isn’t about looking for injury, its about giving and receiving love; and in amongst the death, and hurt, heaven and hell and assorted other evils, Dean being there is what Sam thinks of as heaven. Then she notices what can’t be Sam offering his mouth to Dean for a kiss, and it looks as though Dean might just move his head a little and reciprocate the impossible, it looks that way because Dean is caressing Sam’s stubbled face with a dirty thumb, at least that’s what it looks like it can’t have been, that’s what she thought at the time; but she must have moved slightly, and attracted Dean’s attention, because Dean pulls abruptly away from Sam. The look of hurt on Sam’s face, she thinks later, is nothing she imagined.

Mary files that moment under things to be dealt with later.

Sam is shaking his head, she either because he can’t believe she is there, or because he can’t believe that in their heaven Dean doesn’t kiss him. Sam’s face twists, changes a little, and she realizes he is going to cry, exactly like he did when he was still her little baby Sammy; that really is her Sammy wrapped in his brother’s arms. Sam pulls Dean tighter as Dean pulls away.

Mary wishes later that she had let that moment be, that she had been quieter, let Sam and Dean be with each other just a little longer.

Sam is quiet and slightly reclusive at home; maybe, Mary had thought to herself, he is adapting to her being there, to having a mother at all. When she had mentioned the latter to him he had snapped at her that he had always had Dean. He was kind, he tried, he taught her about the internet, gave her John’s journal, he bought her an iPhone; he apologized for his behavior, but he didn’t elaborate on what he said about Dean. Mary hadn’t expected Sam to be like this though, she remembered a happy baby with a wide smile, but Sam is withdrawn and miserable, spending hours in research, preferring the company of the angle to hers and Dean’s. Dean is courteous, gentlemanly, charming, strong, funny, caring.

Her boys are kind and caring, Mary thinks, John must have done something right.  
Mary attempts to set aside what she thought she saw.

The first hunt they do together is strange, and restless, and does nothing to set her at rest, and she knows Dean takes it hard, nearly loosing her again. Sam, she doesn’t know the first thing about what Sam thinks. Setting aside John’s journal, still unable to sleep, her boys taking up her thoughts, Mary steps into the dimly lit hallway to find some water in the kitchen. The light in the kitchen is on, and she sees them together, alone together like they have been avoiding, she hears whispers passing between then. Sam is comforting Dean, and she is surprised, she still thinks of Sam as her baby, but here he is holding Dean against his broad chest, both of the dressed only in sweat pants, pushed up close against each other, naked skin to naked skin, Sam cradles Dean’s head in a strong hand, pulling Dean’s head to his to rest on a shoulder, kissing the top of Dean’s head, telling Dean that they can’t get it right immediately, that they will figure out how to be together – and that word catches her attention, but she sets it aside because words can be mistakes, it’s the touch that tells the truth – Sam tells that Dean saved the world, and that the world will never be saved and Dean is one of the good men who will try to save it to the end, but what they have now is what is important, precious, that’s the word he uses, his own, nothing that either she or John would have. Mary watches as Sam twines the fingers of his right hand though those on Dean’s left. She watches as Sam turns Dean’s face up to his, and kisses Dean’s forehead, moves the hand that had cradled Dean’s head, and kisses tears from Dean’s face. Mary knows this is no longer comfort. She is surprised though when Dean pulls away, making as to leave the kitchen and Sam grasps a hand tight around Dean’s wrist, Dean then tugging away. She watches Sam swallow hard. Mary decides that water is no longer important and returns to bed, her boys still taking up her thoughts.

She and Dean are drinking good scotch in the library, drinking and cautiously exchanging stories about hunting, stories about John, when the topic turns to Dean and Sam. Mary, thinking that leaving this to lay unquestioned and unanswered on the table any longer will only make things harder, and thinking she is hiding it in an incidental inquiry about how they hunt as brothers, asks Dean: ‘This thing that’s between you and your brother,’ and maybe she emphasizes brother too much, ‘This thing that is between you, love, family, what ever it…’

‘It’s family.’ Dean speaks abruptly; his blunt words not directed at Mary. Dean’s eyes are looking past hers -- she follows his gaze to where Sam, unexpectedly standing in the doorway, is staring blank faced back at Dean, looking as though he had intended to speak. Sam was maybe about to say what Dean didn’t, she thinks later, but now she sees Sam’s face fall, sees his features close in on themselves, and she watches him leave silently.

Dean sits, brow creased, mouth still open from his own sudden answer, when Mary, quicker than he is, slams her glass on the table firmly enough to refute any excuse he has for either taking advantage of Sam, or breaking Sam’s heart; but she doesn’t follow Sam either.

This, Mary thinks as she takes a breath, is _not_ her heaven.


End file.
